Chapter One: Pursuit of the Pharaoh
"Oh, sweet mother of Ra!" moaned Yami Yugi, rubbing his throbbing temple with sleepy fingertips. Using his opposite hand, he pulled his pillow out from under his head and smothered himself with it. "Why me? Why does this always happen to me?"
Peering out from underneath the fluffy shield, he glanced at the clock on his dresser top. The red digital numbers glared out at him in the darkness of the shade, seeming to be as annoyed with the terrible situation as he was. Rolling his eyes, the king of games yawned, totally exhausted by the day's events.
"First off today, I had to put up with Joey's cooking." complained the ruler of all duels, recalling how his morning started. "He's a nice person, it's just that he can't prepare a meal to save his soul. Whoever taught him to make eggs with Skittles needs to be severely slapped for being stupid." Cocking his head to the side, he continued on his spirited rant of how bad everything seemed to be going for him. "Then, Yugi asked me to help him with his homework. Dear Isis, what a mistake that was to offer him some pointers! I love the shy sweetheart like a brother, but I don't understand how someone so smart can have such a horrible memory! That's pretty bad when you can't even remember the first president of the United States! And now this!" he cried, throwing a free hand up towards the wall closest to him. "Would it kill the psychedelic lunatic to do all of his weird jungle rituals at a reasonable hour?"
In the adjoining room, Ryou's millennium spirit took up residence within the small dormitory. Literally dancing to the beat of his own drum, Yami Bakura chose the late midnight hours to practice his supposedly "sacred" pagan worship. Strange techno-like tunes were playing at the highest level possible in the other living area, forcing the walls to pulse with their exotic rhythm. Purple-red orbs squeezed themselves shut, hoping and praying that the world of dreams would grace them permanently. When the elusive state of slumber did not come to the king of the Nile, he threw the cushion to the side and sat up. Raising his body from the mattress, Yugioh stepped onto the carpet below. He fumbled around in the shadows, trying to get his bearings by clutching various pieces of furniture.
"Damn that pretentious bastard!" cursed the individual with tri-colored tresses, stumbling around the room groggily. "Can't he be a deranged voodoo priest on his own time?"
Finally, his fingertips grazed a cool, metallic knob protruding out of the gloom. Moonlight glittered on the silver knob, the surface resembling a slate blue ocean enveloped in foggy mists. Before turning the glowing handle, Yami Yugi paused for a moment.
/Wait a minute…/
he thought, shifting his weight back and forth uneasily. /I can't go barging in another's living space and expect them to adhere to my demands. Then again, I really am tired, so I'm about to collapse on my feet. If I try to go to sleep, that demonic chant music is going to keep me up for the rest of the night! What a dilemma, what a dilemma…/ Biting down on his lower lip, he pondered the more serious repercussions of confronting the spirit of the ring. /I've never been in his bedroom before. Now that I think about that, no one else has, either. Not even Ryou./ Cracking a grin, the millennium spirit shook his head. /I can't say that I blame him, though. Bakura might try to use him as a virgin sacrifice to one of his many gods. Well, that is, if the darling little hikari hasn't laid before his yami yet./ straightening his frame into an authoritative pose, the king of games lifted his head and threw his shoulders back. /If I don't shut that wayward Wiccan up, he'll be prancing throughout his dorm until the break of dawn. All I can do is be calm and civil to him. He at least deserves to be treated fairly./Bright fluorescent lights flooded the inside of his living area, making him drape a palm over his eyes. A bit disoriented by the burst of false radiance; the ruler of all duels staggered a pace backwards. Magenta orbs blinked several times, their poor vision bleary and shaky. After a few minutes, his sight returned to him, and he treaded out into the hallway.
"Alright," said the king of Thebes, grim determination edging up in his accent, "I'm just going to politely tell him to tone it down in there, and that's it. If he doesn't comply with my request, I guess that is going to have to be just fine for me." Bowing his head halfway down, Yugioh let his piercing ruby-eyed glare override his normally easy-going features. Grumbling underneath his breath, he added, "Yes, he can just do whatever he damn well pleases if he doesn't listen to me…if I'm not pissed enough to call police officials on him."
Collecting his thoughts, the person with tri-colored tresses escorted himself next door. He knew that it would take more than some eloquent, subtle speech to just get Ryou's millennium spirit to pay attention to him. Yugioh understood that no one else ever confronted the maniacal piece of work about his savage dancing customs, too. Ultimately, Yami Yugi knew that the spirit of the ring probably wouldn't even be able to hear someone knocking on the door because the Chinese chant racket was too loud. What he didn't know was that the mysterious silvery-haired male conducted his early morning ceremonies for more reasons than what the rumors spread about him. Those ancient melodies were designed not to keep people out, but to draw unsuspecting individuals into their lair. With prehistoric songs older than any myth or legend alive, Yami Bakura intended for them to be a device in capturing new victims. An innocent bystander was going to arrive in the snowy-haired soul's dungeon, too worn and weary to comprehend the fact that he was about to be ensnared in a hunter's trap.
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In the mists of burning oils, scattered rose petals, and soft, satin sheets lay the older counterpart of Ryou, a slight smile playing with the edges of his mouth. Striking violet eyes of his gazed at his bedroom door, waiting for Yami Yugi to make his grand appearance.
"Don't underestimate me, Pharaoh," whispered the spirit of the ring, toying with a lock of his shiny silver strands. "I'm much craftier than you think. But don't take my word for it, dearest. I'll give you a personal demonstration of my brilliance, where you can see for yourself just how good I can be." Tracing his succulent lips with the tip of his tongue, he chuckled quietly while saying, "Pretty fairy, come out to play. You'll love being my perfect prey."
Cruel laughter reverberated throughout the dorm, the awful sound adding a sadistic quality to the music being played. Picking up a stick of incense, the wise old soul flicked the sweet-smelling rod into a nearby candle. Immediately, the scented wand began to burn, and the dreamy aroma of Egyptian Musk began to bathe the room with its seductive qualities. Tilting his head back, Bakura inhaled the alluring smell.
"Mmm…" murmured the male with amethyst eyes, grinning wildly with anticipation. "Came a thief of charm and spell, out of the desert sands. Unto him every suitor fell, at that demon's delicate hands. Oh, yes, Yami Yugi, I'll see you fall…right into my very own skilled hands."
With that final declaration of desperate need vocalized, he gently blew out the only source of light in his living space. Submersed in the heady air of erotic perfume, the lilac flecks in his orbs sparkled with wicked passion. He placed his hand on his neck, slowly caressing the graceful column of flesh. Fingertips of his trailed across the fine points of his upper chest, stroking the curves and contours present on him.
"My perfect prey…" muttered the millennium spirit arduously, his eyes half-closed in a stimulating fantasy-like pose. Reaching out to his perfectly toned frame with hypnotic arms, the smoke from the incense watched in awe as the beautiful subject touched himself. "There he is, right outside my door. Quoth the raven, 'nevermore.' "
Pausing in his small session of self-induced pleasure, the silvery-haired male brought his knees up to his chest. Bakura allowed his eyes to close, using his lengthy eyelashes as a decoy to peer out from. He was like a sleeping predator, lying patiently while awaiting just the right time to go hunting. Everything had been planned directly to every precise minute, something that required a great deal of meditation and logical scheming. This is what is was all coming down to: the pursuit of the pharaoh, someone that the spirit of the ring had been waiting to pounce on for centuries. What Bakura wanted, Bakura always saw to it that he got it, one way or another. In the boundaries of this circumstance, he showed the same stubbornness. He wanted it all, and he was willing to use every unscrupulous tactic he possessed to take what he pined after.
"Come to me…" the violet-eyed male whispered, an evil smile spreading across his face. "Don't keep your master here all alone."